


A Dragon or a Wolf, or perhaps both.

by SmallTimeWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragons, Eventual Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallTimeWriter/pseuds/SmallTimeWriter
Summary: Lyanna Stark gave her child to her brother with the intent to have him safe. Only now, winter is approaching and the Game of Thrones is beginning. Ned must tell Jon of his true parentage and send him to Pentos to reunite with his other blood. True heir to the Iron Throne, Jon now questions his entire existence; around every corner is another lie, another person to mistrust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Throne nor A Song of Ice and Fire. Give credit where credit is due. I own none of the characters.

**Prologue:**

* * *

 

**18 Name Days Ago.**

**Lyanna Stark.**

* * *

 

Lyanna stroked the cheek of her newborn babe, watching with sorrow filled eyes as he suckled upon her breast for what would be the only time. The rebellion was won, her beloved dead. Oh, how she had howled with grief as Ser Arthur revealed his fate to her though left with no time to grieve as the fire had seized her body with a babe that wished to be born. 

Now laid in her arms was the only true heir to the Iron Throne. Her heart wept for that of his siblings, Rhaenys and Aegon, brutally murdered though no more than innocent children, Aegon just a babe like the one within her arms. Her mind took in every feature, every coo or cry, making memories to last until they would be reunited. “I apologize my love, for all that is to come,” She leaned down to press a kiss against the crown of his head. “You will be loved.” She gently ran her fingers over the petrified dragon egg that lay beside her; a gift from Rhaegar to their son before he had rode into the darkness. “You are just one of the last dragons, my son. You must stay strong, be brave and never forget that you are a Targaryen.”

_Damn you, Rhaegar,_ she thought, frustrated. _This was not meant to be._   
She breathed deeply, if not for his prophecy Targaryen’s would still rule, now the dynasty was nothing but ruins. Kings Landing had fallen then risen in the hands of Robert Baratheon. Usurper. Her betrothed would not rest until every Targaryen was slaughtered in his name, her child just one.

“Lady Lyanna.”

Lyanna would have greeted him with a smile but nothing within his features read good news. “What has happened, Ser Arthur?”

“Your brother has arrived, my lady.”

_Eddard._ “You do not seem pleased.”

Ser Arthur inclined his head. “I am all that is left of the Kings guard.”

_Oh Ned._   
Her heart twinged, but it was already shattered. There had been too much death, violence, all in her name.   
_I am guilty._   
Lyanna was shaken with guilt, if only she had told Ned that her love for Rhaegar existed.

“Lyanna!!” Her brother’s voice could be heard as he approached the room, he seemed not to notice her as he grabbed Ser Arthur by the neck slamming him into the wooden door. “My sister…”

“Ned, no!” Lyanna called his name, pulling the blue blanket further up her body, masking the blood from Ned’s view.   
Despite knowing that her life was ending, Lyanna did not feel scared. _Rhaegar._ Her thoughts were filled of her beloved. “Do not hurt him.”

“Sister,” Ned turned, his eyes filled with emotion, his hand dropping from Ser Arthurs neck. “You are alive,” He moved to her bedside, dropping the sword on the floor. “With child.”

Lyanna reached to touch his cheek as he knelt beside her bed. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

“As I’ve missed you.” Lyanna turned to the child, moving him from her breast. _Do not cry, my love._ She covered herself, holding him close, she showed him to Ned. “My son…”

Ned’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Lyanna, what has Rhaegar done…” Anger underlying in his tone.

“Nothing I did not agree to,” She saw the confusion within his eyes. “There is much to explain, we do not have the time.” _Death. It will claim me soon._ “I was not kidnapped Ned, I truly loved Rhaegar…”

“No, Robert…we fought for you.”

Lyanna shook her head. _I contributed; I brought ruin to a kingdom._ “I’m sorry; Robert’s obsession with me is not love. I do not love him.”

“The boy…”

“Is the one true king,” She smiled fondly as he opened his eyes, the shade of grey not violet as a dragon. _Thank the gods._

“You must take him, Ned.”

Ned’s tears flowed steadily as he looked at her, confusion filled within his features. “No, you must come home to Winterfell.”

“I cannot,” She smiled at him weakly, reaching to take his hand in hers. “Death is coming, Ned, for me this time.”

“Lyanna.” His eyes filled with tears.

_Do not fear Ned, you must be brave_. “Robert will kill my child.”

“No, the babe is of your blood. Stark blood. Robert will not lay a hand upon him.”

_Oh, if only that was the case._ “He is son of Rhaegar, true heir to the Iron Throne. Robert will have him slaughtered. You must promise, Ned, promise to look after him.”

“And what of you?” Ned’s hand trembled as he placed it to her cheek.

“I am already dead, Ned, it is only a matter of time.” His face fell and so did her heart. “He was too big a babe, the blood cannot be stopped.” She closed her eyes trying to keep the tears at bay. “I do not wish to leave him alone in this world. It is why you must take him, take him home to Winterfell. It will be his home.”

“Winterfell was your home.” _You left it, for whom? Rhaegar? It is because of him you lay before me dying. And it always will be._

“Dragonstone will be next to fall.”

Ned raised his eyebrow. _Dragonstone. The heavily pregnant queen. The prince._ “How do you…”

Lyanna breathed deeply, her eyelids fluttering. “It is only time. Robert will have assassins hunt, Targaryen’s will not be allowed to live.” Her eyes fell to the child within her arms. “Raise him a Stark and he shall be safe. When the time finally comes, you must reunite them. The rightful royals.” She leaned down placing a kiss on the babes’ forehead. “I love you,” She moved to place him in Ned’s arms giving her brother no choice. “I apologize Ned. I do. But you must understand. Kings Landing will never rise to greatness in the hands of a Baratheon.”

“Have you forgotten what the Mad King did to our family? Targaryen’s…”

_No, of course not. Father’s death. Brandon’s._ Oh how her heart ached, but it was not Rhaegar’s fault, no, it had been Aerys, the Mad King. “Are not all bad,” She finished, her eyes falling to the babe. “His name is Aegon, Aegon Targaryen…you will call him Jon Snow, he will be your bastard.” _You are not a bastard my love, you will never be._ She ran her finger along the babe’s cheek.

“Oh Lyanna.”

“Ser Arthur…” She called his name, the knight turning to his Lady. “You promised.”

“I did, my lady.” He saw her eyes drooping, her breathing slowing and he knew the time was coming. “I’ll be in the shadows Lord Stark, when the time is right I’ll take Jon across the Narrow Sea.”

Lyanna’s finger gently stroked the cheek of her son. “Targaryen’s will rule again. Jon, Viserys, Rhaella’s babe. They will stand together as one, the three headed dragon. They will conquer, bring Westros to great power, peace will be restored.”

“How can you be certain?”

Lyanna smiled gently, taking her brothers hand. “I just know.” _The prophecy._ “Now, promise me, Ned.”

* * *

 

**Present:**

* * *

 

_"Her words read, Jon Arryn is dead, murdered by the hands of the Lannisters. The King is in danger."_

Ned knew the moment those words reached his ears that this was only the beginning, and now he had no choice other then to send his own raven, to the only other person whom knew the truth of Jon Snow. 

It was time. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. Give Credit where Credit is due. I do not own any of the characters.

* * *

 

**Winterfell**

**Jon/Ned**

* * *

 

_“_ _She says Jon Arryn is dead, murdered by the Lannisters. Her words are the King is in danger.”_

The moment Robert requested he return to Kings Landing to the Hand, Eddard knew a dangerous path would follow. No Stark survived in the south, it was no place for Northerners. If the Lannisters were responsible for the death of Jon Arryn it only made it more so.  
It was the request that led Eddard to the place he was, standing in front of Lyanna’s statue with Jon before him.  
Eighteen namedays he had withheld the truth knowing that it would shatter his world. Now circumstance dictated his course of action, the truth could no longer be kept a secret.  
**_“Promise me, Ned.”_**  
The words circled through his mind since the day Lyanna had placed Jon into his arms.  
**_“Raise him a Stark.”_**

That he had done. _My son._ Ned felt selfish. Jon was Lyanna’s child, he had always been yet he had raised him. Treated Jon as one of his own, loved him, disciplined him, fed, sheltered and clothed him. Jon was his son as much as he was Lyanna’s. _Always mine._ Ned could not help but wish there was another way, one that would allow Jon to stay unburdened by the knowledge of his true heritage, one that would allow him to be safe within the walls of Winterfell but it was not possible.

****_“I will not have him here with you gone. I will not!”_  
“Cat…”  
“No! I will not. Send him to the wall, Benjin will have him. The boy has always wanted to join the watch.” 

_The wall._  
Jon had spoken about the wall since he was a young boy, he called it _home_. In some ways he felt as though he failed Lyanna, he had made her son feel unwelcome me in Winterfell, so much so that he wished to live elsewhere.  
His eyes drifted to the statue, sorrow flowing through them _. I’m sorry. I failed you. Jon has been shamed, outcast and I did nothing. Catelyn’s eyes filled with hatred and I at times choose her.  I am sorry, sister; this is not what you would have wanted. It is not what I wished for him._  
Guilt. It was not only him that would feel it but Catelyn; she would soon be riddled with it. Jon was no bastard and he had never been unfaithful.  
It was true, he had been a horrible husband to her, the woman he claimed to love. The mother of his five children. He allowed her to believe that he had taken another _. I’ve never been unfaithful; I am loyal, loyal to you. He wished to tell her but her safety was at risk._

Catelyn punished.  
Tongue sliced out.  
Hung.  
Beheaded.

Ned Stark closed his eyes, the images flashing through them. He wished to say Robert would never order those acts but when Lyanna’s name was brought to light the King new no bounds.

“Father, have I done something?” Jon watched as his father was seemingly pulled from his thoughts, the man had been staring at the statue, emotion filling his features.

“No Jon, I have brought you here to share a piece of history with you.”

Jon stared at his father, confusion written in his features. Here they stood in front of Lyanna Stark, the statue, after all his Aunt was dead. “I do not understand.”

“You will not join the night’s watch, Jon, that is no place for you.” _Never, you belong here. Winterfell is your home, just as it was your mothers._

“The nights watch is all I have ever dreamed of.” Jon spoke the truth; he had bid his time learning the art of the sword until he would come of age to join the watch. To leave Winterfell. _I do not belong, this is not home._ A Stark by blood though not by name meant little among the walls. “Father…”

“Jon, this is important. I leave for Kings Landing at sunrise; you will ride out with me.” He placed his hand upon the grown boys shoulder, leading him further into the crypt knowing he would not be overheard. “When you were a newborn, I made your mother a promise that I would protect you. She asked that I bring you here, to keep you safe and until now it has been successful but the time has come…Winterfell can no longer house you Jon, neither can the wall.”

Jon frowned at the sudden information, his father almost never mentioned his mother. It was only when Jon spoke of her that his father would mumble the words. **_“One day soon we will talk about her.”_** It was concerning that he was speaking of her. “Where will go?” _Alone. I am always alone._

Ned could see the hurt shining within Jon’s eyes. “You will go to Pentos. I have paid for a room aboard a ship; it will take you across the Narrow Sea. From there you must find the last Targaryen’s.” _It is what your mother would want._ He did not speak her name, it pained him. To tell Jon the truth, the entire truth would help but if the wrong person found out Jon would die. _His death would be on my hands. I will have failed my sister._

Jon simply continued to stare at his father, the man was sending him away yet for some reason this did not surprise him after all he was a bastard and society said bastards were not raised by their father. “I…” He was confused at why he would be sent across the Narrow Sea, why Targaryen’s? _Weren’t they evil as that was what people whispered?_

Ned looked Jon directly in his eyes. “You are of not only Stark blood.” _But Targaryen._ He gently nudged Jon’s shoulder in the direction of Lyanna’s statue. _Understand, he all but begged within his mind._

Jon let his eyes wander back to the statue of his Aunt Lyanna, realisation flooding through his features. He had heard the stories of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen. “Aunt…”

“Hush,” _If you speak her name and another hears._ “Yes.” Ned confirmed.

_Not Ned’s bastard._ To Jon his entire world shattered at this information. Everything he had ever known was a lie. He was not the bastard of Winterfell. It made him angry, angry that this had been kept from him. His life he had been the outcast of his family, he had endured Catelyn’s hatred. He also felt a tiny piece of relief that he no longer had to feel like rat beneath her feet. “You lied to me.” The words left his lips, and he was noticed the brief look of surprise that registered across his Uncle’s face, as if those had not been the words he was expecting to hear.

_This is not what he is meant to say._ “Jon, I did only as…”

“My entire life I’ve been called a bastard, I have been forced to endure whispers, harsh stares and the hatred of your wife and for what? You are now telling me I am no bastard, that I…” He closed his eyes. “You lied.”

“Jon, please, this is not how I wished for you to discover this truth. I wish I had time to discuss it with you,” He stared into the eyes of his son/nephew. “I apologize Jon. Know that I understand your anger and I will endure it but it must be at a later date.” He placed his lips to the boy’s ear. “Your Aunt was indeed your mother. You are of Targaryen blood, Jon; you are the rightful King to the Iron Throne,” He could see the boy had stiffened. “You must find your Uncle and Aunt. Viserys believes he is the rightful King, he is not fit to lead.”

“You support King Robert.”

_I did before I knew. Now it is a façade._ “I support you, Jon; it is why I am sending you to Pentos. Winter is coming, with winter comes war, we will need a strong King when the time arrives.”

Jon shook his head; this was all a bit much. “How will I convince them of the truth? I am known as Ned Stark’s bastard. No one will believe my claim.”

Ned placed his right hand on the crown of Jon’s head. “You will find a way, I believe that.” He pulled away, slipping his hand inside his cloak. “For you,” He placed the scroll in Jon’s awaiting hands. _My Son._ “No matter the truth, you will always be a Stark. Lyanna’s blood, my blood, it runs in your veins.  
As the words fell from his lips, the weight shifted from his shoulders. No secrets, no longer.

“Fath…Uh,” _What do I call you?_ Jon stared at him, was it his right to still call his man his father, after all he was an Uncle.

“You may call me father, Jon, this will not change that.” Ned promised him. “What is it you wish to ask?”

_Ask. It is no more than a question._ “What did he look like, my fa…Rhaegar?” Jon held his breath, waiting for Ned to reprimand him for asking such a question. _He was the one who took her, the one who started the war._

Ned’s eyes flickered to Lyanna’s statue, his heart heavy as he then looked down at the boy he called son. “He was the image of a true Targaryen. Silver hair, lilac eyes. Women admired him for his beauty. You are the image of a Stark Jon, not Rhaegar.” He frowned as if remembering something. “Jon, the last thing you must know is Jon is a name given to you to hide your identity. Your true name is, Aegon Targaryen. Your mother and Rhaegar chose that for you.” Ned breathed deeply, patted his son upon his shoulder and left the crypts.

Jon stood silent, his eyes staring at the stone statue of his Aunt. _Mother._ He understood why Ned never spoke of Lyanna, why her name was nothing but a whisper among the walls of Winterfell. It was to protect him. “You loved him.” Jon leaned against the stone wall, sliding down until he rested on his bottom. “I do not know how I know.” He leant his back against the wall, closing his eyes. “You made him promise to protect me, with that promise you also made my entire existence a lie.”

* * *

**Winterfell**

**Myrcella**

* * *

 

“How could you be so stupid?”

_Turn back._ Myrcella’s footsteps halted, hearing the sound of her mother’s voice just beyond the corner. _Turn back. Do not interrupt mother._ She knew her lessons, as a Princess there was many. Interrupting the Queen would only serve insult. _Mothers little lioness._ Joffrey’s words floated through her mind, oh how she was anything but.

“Calm down!”

_Uncle Jamie?_ A voice she would know in any land. Myrcella breathed, he was not meant to be in this part of the castle.

“He is a child…10 years old. What were you thinking?”

_Bran. The little lord._ Her mother had said he would die, her Uncle Tyrion said he would live. A miracle they had called it. _No such thing as miracles._  Her mind taunted her.

“I was thinking of us. What has the boy told them?”

“Nothing. He remembers nothing.”

“Then why are you complaining?”

“What if it comes back to him?”

“We will say he is lying. Dreaming.”

“What of my husband?”

“I’ll go to war with hi if I must. The war for Cersei’s Cunt!”

Myrcella covered her mouth, the sound her mother slapping her Uncle rang through the air. She peeked around the corner, biting her bottom lip when she witnessed the way her mother was being held by her Uncle. It was too familiar, to like the way she had witnessed Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn earlier. The embrace full of love, the rare kind. She had yet to see her father hold her mother in such ways.

“The boy will not talk. If he does I will kill him, Ned Stark, the King. I will kill everyone until you and I are the only people left in this world.” He spun her around and kissed her.

Myrcella moved back against the wall, confusion and fear filling her tiny body. Her Uncle had attempted to kill the Little Lord and she knew why. _He shouldn’t kiss her like that._

* * *

**The Free Cities**

**Some Namedays Ago**

* * *

 

“I heard there was another. A male. Not much older than the Princess.”

“No. Absolutely absurd.”

“A son of the Crown Prince Rhaegar,” Heavy breathing, the sounds of glasses clinging. “You are aware of why the Targaryen dynasty fell. Rhaegar took another, he begun a war.”

“If there was a child, it is long dead. Murdered like those of the family.”

“How do you…”

“Viserys is the rightful King, he will lead the Targaryen’s to glory. Come see, if you simply look you will know. He is the son of Aerys, rightful heir to the throne!” The chamber door shut with force, the footsteps leading away.

“A son.”

Daenerys crept out from under the bed, she had hidden in hopes to not be found by her brother, never has she meant to overhear a private conversation. Perhaps she should not have hidden underneath a bed that did not belong to her. “A nephew?” She breathed. “No, Viserys would have told me.”

_The last of the Targaryen’s. We are all that remains.  
_ She repeated the words within her mind, there is no more. Nor would there ever be.

* * *

**Pentos**

**Present Day**

* * *

 

The breeze felt cool against her skin, the light slowly creeping through the darkness as the night once again returned to day. Her body ached as did her mind; Viserys had been to visit in the night hours with threats of waking the dragon. Dany knew the stories of her father, the one they called the Mad King. She wondered if the other saw the traits in Viserys that she did. While Dany had never laid eyes upon her father, Viserys had. Perhaps it was his nature that had grown in her brother.  
Her brother planned for her to wed someone else, unusual for a Targaryen, since if they followed tradition she would have wed him. Her future terrified her, instilled a fear that she had not been aware of. The Dothraki were known for their brutality, she was a meek girl of seventeen.

“Daenerys!”

Dany turned, her blood running cold as Viserys returned to her chamber, holding a dress within his hands. Her silence was all that fluttered in the air; if she did not speak then she could not wake the dragon.

“The bride to be. Look, a gift from Illyrio. Touch it, sweet sister.”

Daenerys did as he told her; she would not dare disobey him. Not today. “We’ve been his guests for over a year, he has never asked us for anything.”

“Illyrio is no fool. He knows I won’t forget my friends when I come to my throne. You still slouch,” He reached forward, pulling at her gown, it fell to the floor. “You have a woman’s body now,” He gently stroked her breast. “I need you to be perfect today; can you do that for me? You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

“No.” Her response was immediate, her voice soft as she stared at the floor unable to meet his eyes

Viserys dropped his hand from her body, turning to leave the chamber. “When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say it begun today.”

Dany shivered, the doors to her chamber clanging behind her brother. His words seemed almost non threatening but within she knew the truth, if Khal Drogo did not approve of her Viserys would likely beat her.

* * *

**Winterfell**

**Jon/Arya**

* * *

 

“All the best swords have names you know.” He gently lowered Arya back to the ground.

Arya smiled. “Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I have a needle of my own,” She stared up at Jon, the moment passed and she felt the fear creeping back inside. The fear she had attempted to keep hidden when Jon entered the room. “I heard…”

Jon leaned down to gently rub Nymeria’s head as she moved towards him, despite each wolf having an individual master; they seemed to take to him without hesitation. “What did you hear?”

Arya looked down at her wolf, a brief moment of hesitation guiding through her features. “Take Nymeria.”

Jon frowned, his little sisters remark was uncalled for. “No, of course not. Nymeria will go with you to Kings Landing; she is your wolf, your protection.” _I will not leave you unprotected._

“I do not need her to protect me, I’ll have father.” She looked up at her brother; he seemed to be the most like her, the one she had bonded with since birth. The brother that was always there for her. “Take Nymeria, she will protect you as she would me. Take her please, Jon, please.”

“Arya,”

“I heard,” Arya took his hand in hers. “I heard what Father said, Jon, I shouldn’t have been there but I was,” She saw the look of hurt flash through his eyes. “You’re my brother.” She reassured him. “No one will take that from us.”

Jon reached out, placing his right hand on her head. “Arya…”

Arya interrupted him once more. “Nymeria will go to Pentos with you. You will be in more danger on your journey. You’ll need her.”

“No.”

“Yes, I will spend this last night with her. Tomorrow she becomes your wolf. Your protector.” Arya jumped up to hug him, having faith that he would once again catch her and he did. “I love you Jon, I need you to live.”

“Wise beyond your years, Arya, remember how to be a child.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “We will meet again.”

Arya leaned up; her lips close to his ear. “When you are King upon the Iron Throne, Aegon.”

* * *

**On The Road**

**Jon**

* * *

 

The gravel crouched beneath the horses hooves as he rode along the path his father had told him to take.

_“Follow the path to the river then the river til you meet the sea. The wooden ship with white strips will take you across the Narrow Sea. Be safe, wise and know your enemies. Til we meet again.”_

Jon could still feel his father’s warmth from the hug; his cheeks still tingled from Ned’s unshaven beard had tickled his skin.  
_Alone._ He was alone with no one other then the wolves to keep him company. He had originally left without Nymeria, however the wolf joined him not long later, he had figured Arya had noticed he was gone and sent the wolf to him. His eyes lingered on them as they ran along the path side by side. _Gratitude._ He was thankful for Arya; it brought him comfort knowing he had Nymeria for another coat of protection.  
_I know nothing of where I go or what I shall face._ His future gave him nothing but fear yet Arya’s words earlier that morning floated within his mind. **_“Fake confident until you believe it. Be brave. The weak do not live.”_** She was wise beyond her years, and so he chose to believe her.

Jon pulled on his horse’s reins when he heard a scream come from ahead on the trail, moments later a horse galloped past him with no rider, clearly heading back to Winterfell. _Who?_ The question peaked with his mind, slowly he continued along the path, the wolves choosing to stick close to the horse. _Stupid boy._ In some ways he was no different from a Stark, he had learnt from Ned, from Robb. He had a good heart; it was why he followed when he heard the cry for help. In the distance he could see her sitting on the ground in her purple gown and white cloak, g0lden hair braided to the side. He should have kept going, should have galloped away the moment he saw her. It was dangerous, his father had warned him to stop for no one yet he couldn’t, he was to kind hearted. The thought of leaving a child younger than Arya crying on the ground was appalling.  
He dismounted his horse and carefully approached her. “Princess Myrcella.” The Princess that had hidden behind the walls watching him from afar, she had been a shadow in the distance. Curiosity he had called it, many were curious to see Eddard Stark’s bastard. Robb had called it infatuation. _“It seems the Princess has a crush, perhaps she feels love.”_ Robb had teased him about it but Jon knew better.

She raised her head, her cheeks flushed. “I…”

“Are you hurt?” He dropped to his knees beside her, looking into her eyes.

“No…” Myrcella could see his clearly disbelieving look. “My leg, it is a little sore.” She pulled up her gown to show him.

Jon smiled at her reassuringly. “It is just a graze. Let me help you,” He extended his hand and helped her to stand. “You should be with your mother.” _Where was the Queen, surely a child of nine could not go unnoticed. She shouldn’t have been able to escape her guards._

“I have run away.”

The words struck Jon; this was a Princess, a quiet, shy, meek girl who followed her mother around. “I should take you back to Winterfell, they will send a raven.”

“No!” Myrcella exclaimed. “I will not return. I will not go to Kings Landing.”

_Fear._ He would recognise that emotion in the darkest of eyes. “Your mother and father…”

Jon frowned, he did not understand her words, yet concern spread through her body. If people heard those words leave her mouth and the King heard the whispers. “The King…”

“I will not go back. Where is my horse?”

“Where will you go, little Princess?”

Myrcella glance up at him. “I am no Princess. I am a bastard.”

_No._ the word, it sounded wrong leaving her mouth. She was no more than nine, the middle child born to the King and Queen alongside her twin sister. Myrcella seemed to be the forgotten child, her sister Lyra was the more outspoken one. “You are not…” he wished to tell her that she was incorrect, yet the look in her eyes told him that she, that she was certain.

“I must go. I do not wish for them to find me.”

Jon glanced back at his horse. “I must to you back.”

“I do not want them to hurt me, like they hurt your brother. The little lord, they tried to kill him. I will not be next.” At the age of nine, Myrcella knew, she understood that Joffrey would be Kin. It was her mother’s goal in life, to crave him into the King she wished, while her mother loved all her children, Joffrey was undoubtedly her favourite.

Bran. Images of his brother filled his mind, his gaze flickering back towards Myrcella. “What do you mean by…” Bran was safe, he forced himself to remember. He wished to ride back to Winterfell to tell Robb, but he could not. He had to leave. “Your parents they will…”

“Mother and Uncle Jamie. I know. They’ll kill me.” She grabbed his hand. “May I come with you? I do not wish to die.” Her words were filled with fear, as were her eyes.

_The Queen and Ser Jamie, what did she mean?_ Jon found himself unable to comprehend what she was implying. “I am going to a dangerous place; Winterfell will be safer for you.”

“I will not go. Please, allow me to go with you. I’ll be quiet; I won’t get in the way. Please!”

Jon knew he would die, he would be executed for taking the Princess, yet she feared for her life and if he delayed this trip any further then he would never make it to his ship. If all was true and he was indeed the rightful King, then his duty was to protect his people. More importantly, to protect the children. “Come, your horse is gone. You’ll ride with me,” He gently helped her onto the horse. “Are you certain?”

Myrcella nodded. “I do not wish to see my family again.”

_A fool Jon. You are a fool._ Jon breathed deeply, before kicking the horse back into a gallop. He was foolish, having brought a child of no more than nine with him. His only thought being that he would potentially live to regret this.

**.........**

Jon felt as though he would never reach the river, his entire body ached from the journey. They had been riding for hours; the young princess had been nothing other than silent as they rode along the gravel. Though he had felt a tear touch his skin as she silently cried.  
He was nervous; he had taken the King’s daughter with him, an unthinkable decision on his part. They would be aware she was missing by now, surely attempting to find her. Images flashed through his mind of his death, he would be executed if they did not find him.  
Jon breathed deeply when he rounded the bend to see Ghost and Nymeria splashing in the river now within his sight. To his curiosity the girl of nine had not mentioned a single word in regards to the wolves, though to her credit she had yet to speak at all. “Do you wish to take a break, Princess?” He felt her breathe heavily.

“I am no Princess.”

Jon was not sure how he should respond to her, what words he should use. This girl might have been young but she was clearly wise beyond her years. Raised as a Princess at the hand of Queen Cersei Lannister. “What is it you wish for me to call you, my lady?”

“Myrcella. It is my name.”

“Do you wish to take a break, Myrcella?”

“No, Lord Snow. Where are we going?”

He kept the horse moving as per her wish, he truly hadn’t wished to stop, if any luck he wanted to reach the ship before nightfall. “Across the Narrow Sea.” He expected her to last out, to jump from his horse and demand to be taken back but instead he heard her sigh with relief.

“Far from my mother.”

Jon heard the wolves leap from the water and weave through the woods, despite wandering through the trees out of sight he knew they would be following. “Do you wish to talk about why you are running?”

“No.”

“Very well.” He didn’t pressure her, after all why would he force her to speak when he had kept his reasons for fleeing concealed. Once again the air around them turned to silence, leaving Jon with nothing other than his thoughts.

**........**

“Jon Snow…I was told you would be travelling alone with a wolf. It seems you have brought extras.”

Jon kept Myrcella in hidden behind him, her head was door and hood from her cloak pulled up hiding her golden hair. One peak and people would know that Lannister blood ran through her veins. “She is with me. The extra wolf as well. I’ll keep them in the cabin, they’ll be no trouble.”

He seemed wary but nodded. “The cabin has been paid for; you will need to share rations.”

“Of course.”

“We will leave once your horse is aboard. You will find your cabin below, number 2.”

Jon smiled, once again choosing to find the confidence within himself. “Ghost, Nymeria, to me.” He called for the dire wolves. “Head down.” He told Myrcella. Even once they were safe within the Free Cities it would still be trouble for them if her parentage was revealed. “Thank-you.” He mumbled as they passed the captain.

**........**

“Thank-you.”

Jon turned his head, tearing his gaze away from the wooden ceiling to look at the child laid beside him. “For, Princess?”

“For taking me away from those people that claim to be my family.”

Jon raised his eyebrow, concern flooding through him. “They are your family; you are the daughter of…”

Myrcella turned her gaze away, staring at the wooden ceiling. “Will they protect us?”

_What are you fearful of little one?_ “Who?” Jon asked. “My wolves? Of course. You are safe here.”

“Will you leave?”

_Abandonment, is that what she feared? She knew nothing of him and yet was worried he would leave her._ Jon frowned, her course of questions were erratic. “No. I brought you with me. Is it you who will leave?”

“No.” She rolled onto her side to face him, tucking her hands beneath her cheek. “I do not want to die. My father…King Robert will kill me.”

Wise beyond her years, it was all Jon could think of. _Had Robert made her this way or perhaps Cersei?_ She was a child but where was her childhood. “I suppose he will want me dead as well, when he finds out the truth of course.” He sighed, listening to the waves sloshing against the ship. “You will not die, Princess, not today nor tomorrow, not while I breathe.” He would protect her just as though she was Arya. A sweet innocent child would not die while he breathed.

“Thank-you.”

“No.” He turned his head. “Thank-you. I thought I would be alone with you I am not.” He watched as she closed her eyes, snuggling deeper into the furs.

Jon was not aware of where his future would take him. Unsure of how he would be received, if those of the last Targaryen blood would believe his claim to the throne. His thoughts were still filled with mentions of his mother and father, both dead, two people he would never meet.  
Jon closed his eyes, allowing sleep to claim him. Tired from the journey, from the truth that now weighed upon his shoulders.

_“You were foolish. The Lannister girl does not belong.”_

_Jon walked along the path towards the field. Unsurprised to see her lying on the rich green grass in a white dress, busy making a flower crown, this was how he usually found her. Her black hair braided to the side allowing him to see her face clearly, and it showed her frustration. “I could not bear to leave her, not when she clearly feared death. Is it what you would have done?” He walked towards her, settling on the grass. **Why explain? Surely she could see it all, knew it all.** “Condemned a girl of nine to a fate such as death.” **Never.**_

_“I would have…” She drew a deep breath. “Brought her along. It is still foolish.”_

_Jon chuckled, seeing her frown at the thought of doing as she had done. Usually she would visit him eight times before a new moon, but he had not seen her in several. “You have not visited me in moons, what has kept you away?” It was her that kept his thoughts in order without her he would be reckless._

_She placed the flower crown onto the grass, moving to sit beside him. “I could not. You did not need me.” She leaned back on her hands, staring at the blue sky, the clouds sifting in her view._

_Jon did not believe he would ever truly understand her or more so being able to see her. She appeared when he needed someone to speak to, someone to help keep him sane through the trying times. He called her Dreamer, an affectionate nickname for they met only in dreams. **She won’t tell you her true name.** He was three when he first met her, it was the night of his name day and she appeared to him, running through the field, he chased her. **You’re still chasing her.** “You believe I need you now?”_

_Dreamer only nodded. “I know that you do, Jon. Ned told you the truth. Not a Stark.”_

_Jon frowned, raising an eyebrow in her direction. “You knew?” **She knew.**_

_“Of course. I am dead, Jon. I see all, I hear all, I know all.” She gave a smile filled with confidence. “Are you okay?”_

**_Okay? My existence is a lie._ ** _“I would not say I am okay. I…” He paused, how could he explain to her how he felt when he did not know. “I am lost. A bastard…”_

_“No!” Dreamer looked at him, her dark eyes connecting with his grey. “You are not a bastard. You are Aegon Targaryen.”_

**_How can I believe you?_ ** _Dreamer seemed to disagree with most of his statements about his bastardhood. She listened then fought to change his view but he found it hard to believe in someone who gave him no reason. “Where in history does it say I am not?” He wanted to tell her that being a bastard was all he ever known, that he wore it as armour but he could not speak another word as he listened to the growl echoing in his ears._

_“Ghost. You must go.” She encouraged him to leave her. “Don’t push him away, he is your protector.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Please drop a comment. 
> 
> P.S: As noted in the Prologue, Jon was gifted a dragon egg as a babe by Rhaegar. Thoughts on an eventual name for this dragon?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time I have written on Archive Of Our Own and as it so happens this is my first Multi-Chapter Game of Thrones FanFic. 
> 
> Any advice on this story is appreciated. 
> 
> Drop a comment, let me know what you think of what you've read so far. 
> 
> The next chapter will pick up in the present time.


End file.
